The Unending Journey
by Biron
Summary: Suddenly dumped in to a fantasy setting with nothing but the clothes on your back and foreknowledge of the story you find yourself placed in? Let's see if we can't shake things up a bit along the way. A Final Fantasy Fourteen Self Insert.
1. Life Will Change

Brendt had a knack for getting a person's measure. Maybe it was just a gut feeling, or a skill honed from having wandered as a merchant for most of his life. But he always _knew_ when he was meeting someone great, or important, or even just interesting. He had happened upon people from all walks of life, a man whose furniture would be renowned across the realm, a woman whose voice would make her one of the most successful songstress in Ul'dah, even a young princess who had sought a brief respite from her throne-and hadn't that one been an ordeal? And how many others who would have their names known in some fashion? But always, there had been a spark, and unidentifiable quantity that set them apart, and he had just seen it again. A young man, a Midlander Hyur despite his size, a full six fulms high and broad shouldered to boot, with close cropped dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes.

They had talked during the tail end of their ride together. Seeing as it was their destination, he had spoken at length of Ul'dah. A veritable mountain of stone jutting out of the wastes, worn smooth by the winds and so warm as to be glowing thanks to the sun, the cities harsh mistress. The stucco buildings, the overwhelming smells sights and sounds as a veritable river of people ran through its markets. Despite clearly suffering from Aether Sickness and anxious as all hell, he was still polite and listened as Brendt talked. Praise be, he even gave comments and asked questions instead of just nodding along and half listening, even if he was a tad soft spoken. Or giving an impression of a brick wall, like those Elezen twins they had shared the carriage with. Really, those two took that old adage of 'don't talk to strangers' a little too far. But what was interesting was when he had turned the conversation over to the lad himself. He had only really learned three things. His name was Ethan. He was off to Ul'dah to become an adventurer. And when he asked why the lad would choose that profession, he was given a shrug, a shaky smile, and the answer "What else would I do?"

Ah, to be young and free and see not a sliver of that freedom in front of you. But that spark was there, and he would be keeping an ear to the ground for rumblings from the young adventurer to be. He didn't know how long he would be waiting. But he knew the lad wouldn't disappoint.

-o-

Wymond found himself pleasantly surprised by the young adventurer. He wasn't much to look at, despite his larger bearing for a midlander it was clear that he was fighting against his own personality. If Wymond was reading him right he was naturally timid, or at least not very social. Judging by the way that he kept himself tense, fighting against a more slumped posture, and how he kept playing with the leather of his gloves with his thumb nervously, the hustle and bustle of Ul'dah was causing him a bit of anxiety. By his clothes Wymond had guessed rightly that he was a new Adventurer come to join the Guild. A white shirt with leather padding, open in front to reveal a black undershirt and held in place by straps of leather lined with a few pouches. A pair of white shorts with black leather thighboots, and of course the black leather gloves, the right stopping at the wrist, the left thicker and not stopping until it reached his elbow. All in all it made for a sturdy, and fashionable, getup.

What impressed him was what he asked for when offered some advice. Normally, he offered visitors advice on navigating the city, and directed them to the nearest watering hole. Namely the Quicksand, home to the Adventurer's Guild. Builds goodwill and puts him in mind when they have questions that need answering. Instead when offered a free kernel of advice, he had asked after a merchant who would do right by him when trading materials. A hard thing to find in Ul'dah without knowledge of the locals. Sent him after Fridurih. Not that it would help him too much, it was customary to see just how much you could squeeze out of your first transaction with a new customer, and vice versa. And Wymond certainly hadn't shared that, couldn't have him knowing everything without helping to fill his coin purse some. At least he seemed to have his priorities straight, even if he did seem a bit off kilter. Wymond wished him the best of luck as he made his way into the Quicksand.

-o-

Momodi liked this new adventurer already. She had seen too many come in and try to brush off or hurry through their paperwork. It made sense that they would be excited to begin building their legend, and not all, perhaps not even most were inclined to examine everything in detail. But really, anyone who came to Ul'dah and entered an agreement without knowing exactly what they were and weren't getting deserved exactly what they got. That said she now legally owned several firstborns, was owed seventy three pints of blood, and could legally force a significant amount of the Adventuring population to help her move furniture as per the terms in their contracts. The joke didn't seem as funny when no one got it.

This Adventurer, however, had actually read the terms of the agreement he had been given (and spotted her little jests! Which she had immediately waved off with a laugh), had asked some questions as to how the Guild and its Adventurers actually made their money, what he should expect beginning his new job, and had even talked her into giving him an advance of 100 gil. She had almost forgotten how easy it was to do her job when some lummox wasn't giving her a dull stare, or a 'prodigy of the dark arts!' or some such other genius wasn't acting as if merely speaking to her was beneath them. They usually learned to mind, though. It was understandable, sometimes even she forgot that she was one of the most influential people in a city whose foundation was pure undiluted greed, and how much sway she held among its people, its politics, and its foremost mercenarial force, despite her benevolence. No one ever let that slip their minds for long though, and in the end she was always treated with the respect she deserved.

She had to sympathize with the lad though, losing his entire family just before embarking on what was supposed to be the start of a great new chapter in his life. She had also reminded him that if he tried to skip out with that money, he would be making an enemy out of the Adventurers Guild, and there was nowhere to hide in Eorzea that they couldn't find him. Just because he was sweet and polite didn't mean he wouldn't be hunted to the furthest corners of the continent.

But he was just a sweetheart. "Yes Ma'am, No Ma'am, Of course Ma'am." And a sharp wit as well. Perhaps not particularly well learned, he didn't have the stuffy air of a scholar, but there was a certain cleverness in his eyes. Yes, she had a good feeling for his prospects as an Adventurer. Perhaps even his prospects in romance as well. Fair skin, spotted lightly with freckles, a bit of baby fat left over that gave him a boyish charm, and such a bright smile when you coaxed it from behind that glum look! Why she could think of several fair maidens that would be upon him like a pack of wolves, and she did ever so love tales of sordid love.

-o-

I sat down on my cot with a sigh of relief, and began the work of removing these long ass boots from my legs. At least they were a good fit. I was currently in a hostel Momodi had recommended to me that catered mostly to Adventurers. Bare white walls and several cots lined against them had greeted me when I entered my room. Admittedly, my criteria was 'Not on the street and unlikely to get robbed in my sleep' so it's not exactly the ideal of comfort, but I can hardly complain about having a roof over my head, and it's not like this is some rundown shack. A bit closer to Pearl Lane than I'd like, but few are stupid enough to rob a place filled with trained fighters. Even comes with included breakfast and dinner, although it's only a step above slop, and cheap enough I can afford to stay two nights off of my advance. I can hear people in the common room still chatting and sharing a meal, I basically scarfed mine down and went straight to the bedroom for some semblance of privacy.

Admittedly this'll be all of my advance, but I haven't exactly been loitering around. Initially I was going to just go through with the tutorial, as you do, but when Momodi suggested I go look for further training at the Gladiator's guild I actually stopped and thought about it more than, y'know, not at all. Most if not all of the level one quests I remember are glorified chores, and I desperately need Gil. Mylla can wait until I can afford the time to train. Although I did take her advice to attune and learn more about the Aetheryte. I even learned Return and Teleport fairly easily. Well, theoretically at least. I mean, there's a reason everyone starts with those spells, they're surprisingly simple even if I haven't put them to the test yet.

I also took up her offer of getting that snooty Lalafell to help me out with the markets. Although instead of being taught the layout of the market, which a child given a half hour to wander around could figure out, I asked him about any etiquette I should know while haggling and got a sort of baseline on how far a single gil will go with the prices of some basic items. I'm probably still gonna get ripped off, but at least it won't be quite as bad now. At least haggling here is basically the same and I have a little experience with that. Although there was one good piece of advice he gave me. Finally, one boot clatters to the floor and I can stretch out my foot.

Apparently there's a method to follow if you want to make a standing relationship with a merchant. It's traditional to give them an offer almost ridiculously in their favor, agree to it, and as you're walking away they'll claim they can't have that on their conscience and will offer you a more fair deal, although it will still be in their favor. Builds a foundation of gratitude for the future or somesuch. And if they don't make you a better deal, you should avoid that merchant because they're an asshole. I may be paraphrasing a bit. Apparently more than a few have been put out of business for being too greedy in the city built on greed.

Now, interesting point about the Adventurer's Guild, whose practices Momodi explained to me, on how they make their money. Basically they gather requests for various jobs and their payments, take their cut of the money, and dole them out to Adventurers as Levequests. That's how most Adventurers make their living, in fact, because it's impractical to go and search out every job. They also arrange for more long term stuff like caravan guards or reinforcements for settlements, but that's more of a side thing. Each day you are afforded three Levequests, which keeps groups from monopolizing, and most group together to do them since you can do harder Leves faster. More money for everyone involved.

Now, this part is important to me in particular and I made sure to ask about it. You are absolutely allowed to ferret out your own jobs, and the Guild doesn't even ask for a cut. They consider it good publicity, and encourage people to help out where they can. It's not uncommon for an Adventurer to stop somewhere for a Leve and find themselves doing other odd jobs. And since you can bank up to a hundred potential Leves, you don't have to worry about losing out on potential profit. So, after hearing this and giving my thanks and goodbyes to Momodi, I made it a point to head straight to Wymond, who I knew would have something for me to do. And that was when something interesting came up.

Before I was having a bad reaction the the Aether in the air, and boy did suddenly having a brand new sense that was simultaneously being overwhelmed suck. It was like trying to adjust to a very brightly lit room, except y'know _not at all_ , after having been blind your entire life beforehand. The ebbing and flowing river that is the city of Ul'dah's lifeblood is astounding, and I still have a headache. On the bright side, having no previous sense of Aether seems to have left me quite aware of it, possibly to a greater degree than your average person. But I digress.

When I found Wymond it wasn't hard to track him down. It was quite like playing a game of hot and cold actually. I couldn't really describe the sensation, only that I was sure that if I went _this way_ I would be able to find something. He gave me a letter to deliver to an attendant at the Platinum Mirage, the Casino the Pugilist Guild shares space with. And I happened across several others as I made my way there. I seem to have stumbled on the Echo equivalent of the quest system, which is a quite literal godsend seeing as I'd never be able to track these down without it. I handed over the letter and got a pretty good tip, it was something about vetting customers I think? I was too lost to the new sensations surrounding me to really pay attention. Both boots off. Finally, freedom!

Honestly, I was kind of on cloud nine after that. I ran my glorified errands for the rest of the day, and now have a humble amount of gil that should go towards getting myself some actual equipment. Even the headache that accompanied me the entire day couldn't quite dampen my good spirit. I'm thinking of calling it something like 'the Threads of Fate'. Seems appropriate. I shrug out of my shirt and undershirt, and after a few moments of looking around decide to stuff it in the top of my boot until tomorrow. Not like they're going to get more sweaty. I then flop down on the mattress and just sort of stare at the ceiling, trying desperately to keep from addressing the elephant in the room. I'd done a damn good job so far, what with the threat of homelessness if I didn't do my damndest to scrounge up some cash. But with the tasks done and the day ruminated upon, I found myself turning to how I got here in the first place.

I died.

That thought was going to take some getting used to. Struck by lightning of all things. I guess that'll teach me to push shopping carts in a storm. I don't remember much else, except a clear vision of Hydaelyn in all her glory. Some fragmented memories of conjuring up a new body. Choosing my starting class, maybe? And then being unceremoniously dumped in a wagon on its way to Ul'dah. There's…A lot to process here. Too much, even. Not the least of which is plans for the future. If I made an actual attempt at any of it I'd be here all night, and probably won't be able to function tomorrow for a number of reasons. Not to mention I'm already exhausted. Baby steps, then. First, why am I doing this?

At the moment I'm stuck in a 'Sink or Swim' position, but what is stopping me from fucking off and becoming a carpenter? Leaving the Warrior of Light schtick to someone else? I suppose for a start, there's the fact that there isn't really a replacement for me at hand. Right now it's either me, or leaving the world to fend for itself, and there are too many apocalypses in the future to leave that to chance…

I'm looking at this wrong.

Something half assed like that won't get me very far. Doing it only because I have to will turn it into a burden, and the sheer scale of it would make me snap. If I'm doing this I'm doing it proper, so what reason do I, personally, have to become the Warrior of Light?

My entire life I've never tried to achieve much. I've been perfectly content with what I had, and what I had was great. I had loving parents, stable income, family I would do anything for and true friends that understood and believed in me more than I ever believed in myself. I'm probably more clever than I give myself credit for, and I could do damn near anything I wanted to if I put my mind to it, but there's never been anything I truly wanted enough to go out and take it. Smart enough only to realize how much choice I have, and be paralyzed by it.

And now I have no one and nothing. But what I do have is a potential goal, and the tools I need to start towards it. And I'm...Reminded of something I used to feel while playing the game. It was hard for me to put a finger on it for a long time, the reason why I always did all of the side quests. Part of it was because rather than boring flavor text, they actually put the effort in to sell that these were real people in a real world. But it wasn't until Stormblood that I could finally describe it. The feeling of walking into a village, seeing everything that is troubling it, and just _fixing it_. To come into so many people's lives and genuinely leave them better. As a person, as a people. And instead of it just being characters in a story, to do that in real life with real people? That. I can say without hesitation, that I want that. To leave my mark on my world, and leave it better than it was.

I've never really thought of myself as a truly good person, I've always felt I was too lazy and selfish to be. But I've always tried to be better at every opportunity, to do right by people, because even if you aren't a good person there's nothing saying you can't be better. Can't become one. I believe anyone can be a hero. And similarly, I believe anyone can become a Hero.

So why not me? Just this once, why not believe I can be something more?

Satisfied, I turn my attention to the next most important thing on my list. My plans for the future.

…

Step 1: Get Money

Step 2: Figure out what Step 3 is.

Step 3: ?

Step 4: Profit.

Good enough. I'm going to sleep.

-o-

Mylla was impressed. The young man that had turned up in her guild didn't look like much, and truthfully he wasn't yet. But the keyword there was yet. He had plenty of talent to spare if today had been any indication. She had started by asking the same question she asked every new recruit, if he was prepared to die by the sword. Honestly, said question had less meaning than most new initiates realized. Unless you had genuinely placed your life on the line in combat you couldn't truly grasp its meaning, but it would at least impress some level of gravity to those joining. And any who could be turned away by a few stern words weren't meant for a life of battle.

Young Ethan had answered with a grim nod, and she wasted no time getting him started. It was still morning when they began so they had plenty of time to work on his basics. His form, and movement while in it, were actually fairly solid. Apparently he had second hand knowledge of the Pugilists stance and had bastardized it to work with a sword. A few adjustments and a lowering of his stance was the only immediate advice he needed. After that they worked on basic strikes, and she found him to be an uncommon type of learner. Most just copy the sword swing and move on, refining their technique through experience. Instead he prefered to be told the mechanics of the different swings, and why they were effective. A brief explanation and a demonstration of each swing found him having picked up the basics at a staggering pace. He would need to practice the strikes until he could do them instinctively, but that would come with time.

As afternoon started waning to evening, she then turned him loose on the various critters around the city gates. A bit of a practical test for his new skills, and the guards would be nearby if he ran into genuine trouble. He came back having slain his fair share of Hornets, Shrews, and Marmots. He even did a good job at hiding the foul mood he was now sporting along with, and likely because of, various scratches and bite marks. She allowed him a visit to the medic the Guild employed to treat the small but numerous wounds, a small smirk on her face all the while. Hazing new members just never lost its lustre.

-o-

No one can say I haven't been keeping myself busy, I suppose. It took most of yesterday, but I had managed to scrounge together eight hundred gil. When I'd told Momodi that, she'd damn near done a flip. It makes all the difference being able to actively track down 'quests'.

So to recap, after delivering that message for Wymond I-

-Helped shake down a Lalafell that was in debt.

-Helped another Lalafell put up some posters and stave off domestic abuse for another day.

-Was asked to pick up a Garnet Circlet, and instead made sure the material needed for it to be finished showed up.

-Startled a lady, and helped pick up her Gil despite her looking down her nose at me.

-Helped a Roegadyn find his date.

-Helped the Weavers guild recruit two new fashionistas.

-Helped a Weaver figure out which color to dye his next dress, and placed an order for his dye.

-Offered the poor free medicine for agreeing to be test subjects.

-Was given a shitty vase to sell.

Needless to say, it was an eventful day. And I didn't even manage to get everything on my list. I was also asked to kill Ladybugs, collect Marmot blood, and procure some Shrew hide. At least they were reasonable when I told them I was pretty busy and might not be able to get to it that day. I was told it was unlikely they would find another Adventurer willing to take the requests anytime soon, that's why they were giving the work to me in the first place, and that as long as I got it done within the next week it would be fine. But enough about yesterday, time to focus on today.

First things first, I payed for a third day to stay at the hostel. I had already payed to stay for tonight, but better I have one more day in advance before I go spend money. After breakfast, I made a beeline for the markets. After a little shopping around I stumbled upon 'Chop's One Stop Adventuring Shop', a shop that catered to Adventurer's needs. I think the biggest surprise there was that it wasn't a scam. Or if it was, I haven't figured it out yet. They specialized in all the odds and ends most adventurers needed, and came in at about the same price as other more specialized stores. Cheaper even, if you made a large enough purchase. Chopapo ended up selling me an Atlas and Compass, journal, fountain pen, ink, a hunting knife, lighter, canteen, sleeping bag, and a backpack big enough to carry it all and then some. I also made a point to pick up a wooden shield from the friendly neighborhood Battlecraft Merchant. It's just a few planks nailed together, but it's better than using my arm to block.

And can I just mention real quick how crazy the effects of this world having magic is? This is what happens when you can just bullshit crucial parts of technology. Like, they don't have traditional air conditioning. They just have fans with ice aspected crystal shards strapped to them, and the annoying part is that it works just fine. And instead of a public transportation system, they can just friggin teleport! And on that subject, as expected, while the MMO gave a perfectly good representation of Ul'dah the scale is way off. As the center of trade for most of the continent, the place is huge.

Ok, back on topic. I also bought a few extra sets of underwear, undershirts, and socks. They'll work until I can afford real clothing. I'll need to wash them fairly often, but honestly while the hygiene is way better than you would think in a medieval-ish era, no one is gonna notice if I'm a little sweaty. I mean we're in Ul'dah, which means we're in Thanalan, which means we're in arid wastes, which means we're basically in West Texas. And that means everyone is sweaty. Honestly, walking through the market earlier was like a flashback to the Warped Tour they would hold in July at San Antonio, rocking out amongst the unwashed masses. Except less weed smoke being blown in my face. There was a pretty good mosh pit going though. Or, someone was having a really good sale, y'never know with the Ul'dahn's. What was I talking about?

Right, rest of my day. So after getting my supplies I went ahead and signed up with the Gladiators Guild. I figured if I was going to be using this sword soon, I should be using it properly. I guess Mylla took a liking to me, because she immediately set me to work. And that was when I realized something important. The Echo is bullshit.

See, I'm already pretty sensitive to the flow of Aether because I'd never experienced it before. It was an entirely new sensation to feel it coursing through my body, and even around me to an extent. And it had been said before that the reason players see markers on the ground and cast bars when fighting is because the Echo allows them to see the shifts in Aether leading up to an attack. Combine the two with me focusing intently on someone, and I basically have surprisingly potent predictive capabilities. I know that Fordola in Stormblood started doing some crazy shit when she was artificially given the Echo, but honestly this is just broken. Not only was I getting direct instruction from someone who had all but mastered the blade, I was able to experience the totality of her movements, and mimic them down to the fine details. And any bad habits I might have picked up from Mylla having a different build than I do, she was able to help iron out! I can now confidently say that I can perform the basics. That being said, I still need time to correct my form and strike, but as Mylla pointed out, that will only go away with time and practice.

It's interesting how so many different forms of media portray fighting, and what is good and bad in a fight. Some say that you have to rely entirely on your instincts, attacking and reacting without even thinking. Some say that you should always be thinking rationally and trying to strategize, never losing sight of the battlefield. I'll admit that I don't have that much experience, but to me they're both right and wrong. To be great as a fighter, you need to be able to do both. If you need to think about how to move or strike or guard, it hurts your reaction time. That's why you practice constantly, making it instinctual. Similarly, tunnel vision is an easy way to get manipulated into making mistakes. Infact it's the entire point behind 'Suppression' fighting styles, that bombard you with such an offensive you don't have time to think. So you should be thinking of what is going on around you, and analyzing your opponent. Having your fighting style come instinctively actually makes that easier, as you need to focus less directly on your movements themselves.

Apparently Mylla agrees with my view, because she's instructed me that I'm now only allowed to stand and move while in my ready stance until she's satisfied that it's ingrained into my very soul. Oh, and I'm assured that everyone beholden to the Guild will be watching for me, and if they catch me slipping up there will be a penalty. And then she turned me loose to practice on the local wildlife.

Seeing as I needed to do this anyway for the quests I'd picked up, it seemed like good timing. Figuring they would take the longest, I hit the Shrews first. They weren't hard to get alone and kill, although they did make a habit of trying to run when you started to get the upper hand. Admittedly I had a bit of trouble skinning them. I think I was ten...No, younger than that even, when my Dad taught me how to skin a deer. And I haven't been deer hunting since, sitting in a stand completely silent for hours on end never really appealed to me. So naturally I shredded the first one, but got some decent skins eventually. I didn't really have a use for the meat, not entirely sure it's edible, so I left the carcases to the animals. Then came the Hornets.

"SHIT!" I frantically dodged out of the way as the Hornet dive bombed me. They were way more mobile than the Shrews. It readied for another straif as I recovered my form. "Godamn-Shitfucking-Sonnuva-" I didn't have time to dodge and readied my shield, having to take the Stinger head on...And lodging it in my shield. There was a brief moment where the hornet tried to dislodge itself, and I could only grin at it. "Bitch." Before bringing my sword down hard. It didn't kill it right away, slamming it into the ground with a deep wound, but it certainly stunned it long enough for me to bisect it. "Okay." I panted light, catching my breath. "Just. Just two more."

The Marmots were a shitshow. It was easy enough to fight one, sure, but when it let out its death keel and drew in reinforcements before I could shut it up...Let's just say it quickly devolved from there. What's important is that I got the blood the creepy Thaumaturge wanted, not how much of it might have been mixed with my own.

At least there was one good note, that being that the Gladiator's Guild, and apparently the other combat based Guilds as well, hire retired Conjurers and Arcanists to come heal for them. Lets them get rough when they spar, and do patch jobs in general. So neat. Honestly I'm just too exhausted right now. I'm gonna go sleep forever. If there's a tomorrow, I might try to think about what I'm going to do in the future. But for now, I guess I should title this Journal. And what else would be more fitting?

The Unending Journey.

 **Well, I've actually managed to finish the first chapter. I've been working on this story on and off for about a month, brainstorming how to translate the mechanics of an MMO in to a fantasy world. Hopefully, now that I've worked out most of my base, I'll be able to get chapters out faster than that. That being said, I have work, helping build a shed (and eventually a house), Youtube, and video games including the one this story is based off in the first place keeping me busy. So don't get your hopes too high for a steady release schedule.**

 **Y'know, if anyone even cares.**

 **Oh, and go check out the Fandom Flux podcast on Youtube! They do great work, a selection of internet famous fanfiction Authors and Editors offering writing advice, fanfiction recommendations, Let's Plays, and just generally being funny guys. You'll even find me in the comments section as Ethan F.!**

 **Well, until next time.**


	2. Bloody Stream

God, this stuff is awful. It is the most offensively bland food I have ever had, to the point that I would genuinely rather it taste bad instead so that I could at least _taste_. Not to mention the more you chew the harder it is to swallow. Are they just feeding us industrial grade glue? The best way I've come up with to eat this stuff is spooning in a mouthful, and immediately washing it down.

"Look, I told you, I can't go today."

I'm not the only one eating in the common room today. A party of four also occupy the space. The man talking was large and burly, easily head and shoulders above me. And not at all out of place for the race, in fact he may even be a bit on the shorter side. No idea if he's Hellsguard or Sea Wolf, I barely remember the names of the racial divide for Roegadyn much less the actual differences. He looks to be pure muscle, with a light greenish blue tint to his skin. A brunette, his hair haphazardly swept back. Though that chin strap is immaculate. Oh, and the facepaint, three 'claw marks' across his face in red. Dressed in what looks like a chainmail shirt, black pants, and boots. And...Is he shaking?

"And I'm tellin' ya to suck it up and deal with it! We need the money Bush." Said the lady who is 'putting her foot down', and I mean that literally, she's crossed her arms and stomped the ground in a show of frustration. Hyur Highlander by the fact that she's near as tall as me. Angular face, tanned skin, dark auburn hair pulled into a ponytail. She'd be quite pretty if not for the scowl on her face, with it she's more of a harsh beauty. Wearing some plain tan robes and leaning on a staff. I wash down another mouthful, and if I have to give this muck any good points, it's that it sticks with you all day. I mean it settles like a brick first, but I haven't been getting hungry till early evening. Can't be very nutritious though, should probably get a real meal soon.

"And I'm telling you I can't!"

"Come now Bush, at least tell us what is wrong." This voice is at least mildly sympathetic, and coming from the Midlander. A little shorter than I am, slimmer, black hair shaved nearly to the scalp, with some kind of tribal looking design shaved into the sides... I know that isn't Mike Tyson's face tattoo he's using as the design, but damn if it doesn't remind me of it. Kind of vaguely asian features in the face, skin on the lighter side of mocha. Wearing a loose light blue shirt and darker pair of pants, and I spy a set of knuckles by his side.

"If something is really wrong surely I can help mend it, or at least ease it. C'mon, what's the matter big guy?" A plucky Lalafell speaks up, apparently the healer of the group going by the book strapped to his side. Or, well...Does Arcanist count as a 'Healer' before they become Scholar? I know they were considered 'DPS' by the game, but do they get healing spells early on? I never played the class so I don't know. He's certainly talking like he's a healer. I can't make much of him out under the seafoam green robes he's wearing, hood up and covering all but his pale face. He barely comes above the Midlanders waist. Maybe a couple tufts of blue hair? Hm. My gut feeling is to not trust him, but that's because I've more or less conditioned myself to never trust a Lalafell. You see so many greedy and evil little bastards in the story that I kind of turned it into a running joke, but I don't think some mild racism would be very well received in this case.

At their pushing, 'Bush' finally snaps. "I haven't shit in a week and a half!"

Everyone just kind of goes silent at that. I stop eating entirely and just kind of stare awkwardly. And then the woman sighs, and facepalms. "I thought we told you not to eat only…" Um. I'm not sure what that word was, only that it had more consonants than vowels and involved a fair amount of flem. "You shoulda known better!"

"I'm sorry!" The poor man really does look distressed. "I thought it would save money, and you know I need a new haft for my axe! But I'm so bloated I can hardly move, I can't go out like this! What if I have to _go_?!" It's a bit odd seeing a man that large whine, but really, I don't think I can blame him. At this point, he's basically about to give birth. And with the way he's quivering and trying to hold his stomach, I'd be willing to bet he's having _contractions_.

I'm reminded that, once upon a time, the Navy used only eating bread and water for meals as a disciplinary tool. It wasn't to make the Sailor hungry, that might affect their ability to do their duties. It was because it basically meant the worst constipation of your life. I was even told they carefully recommend to the person that they eat as little as possible, despite being allowed as much to eat as they could stomach. Hunger pains are better than stomach cramps and hemorrhoids. And I'm also realizing that this is the only thing I've eaten since I've arrived.

"Uhg, a great mess you've made now." The Highlander scoffed. "We'll have to find someone else to do Leves with." Now who could it be at this hour? Why, is that Opportunity I hear knocking? Let me just get the door for you. "Excuse me"

Oh. I guess they didn't realize I was in the room, because they're all giving me that 'Deer caught in the headlights' look. The Roegadyn, Bush I suppose, at least has the decency to look sheepish. Well, best to press through the awkwardness. "I was actually going to look for a group to work with today. If you're looking for a fourth, can I join you?" Bush looks relieved to no longer be the center of attention, although probably not the relief he would prefer, the Hyur and Lalafell are at least considering it, and I now have the Highlander's full attention. She seems to be sizing me up.

"Y'don't look like much." She seems to be taking in my understated armaments. Don't worry, I can assure you they're the very definition of chic. "How much experience ya got?"

"Well," I take a moment to consider how to answer. Best not oversell myself in a line of work that's legitimately dangerous. "I spent all of yesterday training with the Guildmaster of the Gladiators Guild, and killing varmints outside the city. That's...About it." She doesn't look very impressed. I'll have you know those Marmots were vicious. And probably rabid.

...They weren't actually rabid, right?

"Tch, as green as green can be. And why would we waste time showing some rookie the ropes? We'd be better off grabbing some lout from the Quicksand." The Lalafell makes his way over, hands up in a placating gesture, trying to maintain some civility. "Now now Mar, we weren't so different from him just a couple Moons ago. But, you raise a good point."

He turns to me, and puts on his best apologetic face to appease me. "Having to teach someone while getting the job done would slow us down. It wouldn't really be worth it just for a good deed, y'know? But I'm sure you can find another group of similarly experienced Adventurer's to work with!" He makes a fair point, and he's polite to boot. A little chipper for this early in the morning, but that's just the fact that I'm not a morning person talking. I accept his points, and offer my own.

"That's true, but you see, working with a more experienced group would be better for me. Learning how it's done rather than doing guesswork with others as new as I am." His smile falters, seeing that I intend to press the point, but I don't let it dissuade me. "And of course, it wouldn't be fair for me to just mooch off of you. I assure you I'll do my best to keep up and do my fair share of the work." I pause for a moment, partly to take a breath, mostly for dramatic effect. And he looks ready to interject again, his companions looking ready to stop me from inviting myself along if he can't. I suppose I am being a bit pushy. "And of course, you can have the nine Levequests I've saved up."

It takes him a moment to process what I said, mouth hanging open, before his expression perks right back up and he's stuck his hand out. "Welcome aboard! I'm Chuchufebi, call me Chuey, he's Beric, the lady is Marta, and our indisposed companion is Scary."

"Ethan." I clasp my hand with his for a brief shake. "And no offense, but he doesn't look that scary right now." The little man chuckles good naturedly and the man towering over the rest of us sheepishly rubs the back of his head. "No, see, that's my name. Scary Bush. Just call me Bush, s'what everyone else does."

Right, Roegadyn naming conventions. Basically 'Verb, Noun' in either an ancient Roegadyn language that I tend to find indecipherable, or English. Marta seems to still have something to say, as she glares daggers at my new diminutive friend. Is it insensitive to refer to him primarily by his height? Eh, he'll just have to be the bigger man about it. Heh.

"Oi, and just who says you can make that sort of decision for the group?" She seems kind of grumpy. I don't think she's a morning person either. "Are you saying you don't want the work?" Chuey returns, looking genuinely confused. She takes a breath that leaves me thinking she's more than a little frustrated and trying to keep calm, before responding. "No, we need the work, that's true enough. But you need to stop agreeing to things without asking the rest of us first. Or do I need to remind you of-"

"No! No. I believe you've made your point. Does anyone have anything to say on the matter?" Chuey looks a bit embarrassed, and Marta has a rather smug smirk at the moment. Sounds like a noodle incident, should try and ask about that later. But as it is, everyone seems squared away.

Until an objection came in the form of some horrible growling, gurgling sound from Bush's stomach. His face is perfectly serene as he announces "It comes", turns, and walks to the bathroom at the end of the hall. We're all shocked still for a few moments, before we quickly make for the door, our escape accompanied by the sounds of what can only be the birth of an Eldritch Horror.

-o-

Well, starting is easy enough. We just went to the Quicksand, headed to the desk of the Levemete, who Metes out Leves, and asked to look at what they had on hand. The group I've found myself with apparently isn't as far ahead as I would have thought, given that they've got an indeterminate amount of months on me, and they still mostly pick from hard labor and pest control. There were a few more combat based requests they considered, but they decided against it with someone so green on the team, and I could only be grateful.

It was just a hop, skip, and a jump to scenic Western Thanalan. Sparse tall, thin, flat topped trees surrounded by small patches of grass, rock (sandstone?) exposed at points, usually at tall hills or cliffs, and sand. So much sand, everywhere. As we walked the main road towards Scorpion Crossing, the small waystation we would be coming and going to for most of the leves, I considered the road itself. It wasn't as nice as I was expecting for a city that considered itself the trading capital of Eorzea. And what was with all the toppled brick walls alongside it? It would make sense if they were leftover from the destruction Bahamut wrought, but surely in the ensuing...Um. Five years, I believe? Surely it would have been at least removed so close to the city. Maybe they've been appropriated as makeshift battlements? That's not really that important though, I should be focusing, we have a job to do after all.

Which is how we currently find ourselves combing along the roads for lost cargo.

"Found one!"

Ah, Chuey's found the first of the boxes, and from there it's a simple matter to find the rest strewn about. That just leaves a problem. Five pieces of cargo total, two long and thin boxes, one large trunk, and two crates, one large and one small. Now we just needed to figure out how we were going to carry them all.

"Alright, Chuchufebi will handle the small packages," Chuey has them held in front of him, nestled in the crook of his elbows. "Leave it to me!" It's for the best, I doubt he could handle something much bigger. "The trunk is too large for a single person to carry, but isn't that heavy. So we'll have Marta pair up with someone to carry that."

"I still say I could handle it myself. But it is only right for you to offer help to a lady, so I'll graciously accept." All of us just stare blankly at Marta acting as if she hadn't been going through a fairly consistent loop of attempting to find a position she could hold it, losing her balance, dropping it, and cursing a blue streak as she tried a new hold for the last...Five minutes? Well, if she wants to try and save some face I won't bring it up.

"We're glad to offer our help." Don't laugh. I don't know how Beric is keeping a straight face. "So then, that leaves these two. The larger one is quite heavy, whoever carries it will likely need both hands." Really? I mean it's fair sized but how heavy could it be? I reach down to test the weight. Yep, I'm not very good at judging weight but I'd say it's within the ballpark of a hundred pounds. "This one is fairly light, however." He picks up the smaller crate fairly easily. "Whoever takes the trunk with Marta should be able to carry this as well. We just need to decide who will carry what. Ethan?" At this he looks to me.

"How far away is Scorpion Crossing from here?" I ask as I weigh my options. "About five miles." Hm. So either carry a hundred-ish pounds five miles, or try to match step with the surly redhead. I have the large crate hoisted up onto my left shoulder promptly. I did promise to carry my weight, after all. "Let's get a move on then" I say as I try shifting it. Kinda digs in to my shoulder. Beric only takes a couple moments to load up and we're on the move.

"Oi. Don't take such long strides-"

"And now we know what not to do next time we encounter-"

"Well I'd like to see you try and put that fire out without-"

"Make sure you remember to hydrate properly-"

"Why I thought it was a good idea to come to this thrice baked desert-"

"Yeah, they're always like that." Chuey confirmed as I rolled my shoulders. It had taken us about thirty minutes to make the trek back, and went fairly well barring a few minor road hazards. Although Beric and Marta seem to bounce off each other, hot headed stubbornness facing down calm passive aggressive sarcasm. I think. Either Beric is genuinely trying to be helpful or he's got one helluva poker face.

Scorpion Crossing was...Not actually very impressive, but it really isn't meant to be. It's a waystation, a place to rest your Chocobos for a bit, and I suppose to drop off and pick up various cargo for caravans to deliver. Four large wooden walls with scaffolding for the guards to observe from atop encapsulate the space, a fairly large stable, and a few tents and workstations scattered about for the more permanent residents. Not quite home sweet home, but I suppose it gets the job done. It doesn't look ramshackle, at least. It certainly keeps the sand the wind keeps picking up slightly at bay. Stuff gets everywhere. Still, it's rapidly warming up and I'd rather have a breeze then it be just stifling.

"Alright, on to the next." Beric is coming up, Marta not far behind. "Some Shrews have been causing trouble, digging holes in the road. We have extermination duty." Wonderful. He looks at me, and then continues. "We'll be pairing up, and should try not to stray too far from each other, just in case. Myself and Marta, Chuchufebi and Ethan. Unless anyone has an objection?" We're all pretty agreeable. And besides, I like Chuey.

-o-

As it turns out, there's a reason people hire Adventurers for fairly mundane things. It's because even a novice is capable of some level of 'Superhuman' feats. If it's raw manpower you're after, it's far cheaper to pay a small group of Adventurers to do in a day what might take a larger team of workers two or three. Of course, that does raise a problem for myself. Baseline human here may be better off than back home due to any number of mystical energies running through the body, but I'm still below even the level of a novice, and it shows. It's been a struggle to keep up, and to make it better my first day will consist of an entire extra set of six Leves than what would normally be done.

Yay.

My shirt is soaked through with sweat, half of me is lightly coated in sand that I wasn't able to get off, and there's a tenseness in my muscles I recognise will surely be soreness tomorrow. Right now, I'm just glad we're breaking for lunch. Not that I have any. I'm also more than a little annoyed from having to listen to Marta bounce off Beric all day, to no real end. Or the heat. One or the other. Why not both? Chuey plops down beside me on the makeshift seat I've made of a couple boxes in the shade of the wall. A few skewers of grilled meat in hand, chomping away happily. Beric is sat across from us while Marta is...snuggling into his side.

Huh.

"I know, right?" Chuey says, a little bit of playful exasperation coloring his voice. "The only people I know that when told to just 'Get a room already', they not only take the advice but the bickering didn't even slow down!" He looks more than a little incredulous as he waves his empty stick exaggeratedly at them. "I thought the expression was supposed to be they were _sweet_ on each other."

I can't help but grin a bit. "I dunno, I've seen that sorta thing before. Some would even say that a relationship that can stand two people hating each other while in love is stronger than one that never finds any problems." I uncap my canteen and take a sweet, sweet pull from the water inside.

"Oi. Don't talk about us like we're not here!" I can't tell if Marta is blushing or if she's just been in the sun a bit too long. I know my skin is pink, but for me that just means I'm tanning instead of burning. I won't have trouble until I'm red. Either way I don't particularly care as I fill my cupped hand with a splash of water and work it through my hair, reveling in the reinvigorating sensation. When I open my eyes, I'm being offered one of the sticks. "What, did you think little old me was gonna eat this all by my lonesome?" he grins, shaking the other skewers. Admittedly, there is a fair amount left. "Take it, I reckon you've earned it keeping up with us like this. Most as green as you would have called it quits already."

Both Marta and Beric give me nods of approval, and Marta even seems to genuinely _smile_. I'd started wondering if she even could. I can't help my own grin as I take the meat and rip a hunk out of it. It's not got any seasoning, it's stringy and chewy, but I can't think of the last time I'd had something so good. No seriously, I really need to start eating actual food again. We eat and chat and even the heat can't beat down our good spirits. Eleven tasks down, Seven more to go.

-o-

We were nearing the end when we were interrupted by not so local wildlife.

"What is a Peiste doing all the way out here?" I don't know, but it's fucking terrifying. Imagine a lizard the size of a donkey, with the head of a cobra and spines on its back the length and width of your arm. And the tail of a crocodile. And if I remember correctly, the eye of a Basilisk, though it's more temporary petrification than the instant kill kind. Doubt that makes it any more comfortable.

"We would get a reward for killing it, with how close it is to the road leading into the Crossing." Beric points this out calmly, looking to the group for opinions. "We could take it." Marta certainly seems gungho. But Chuey is looking to me. I take a moment to consider my options. "We could probably make it to the Crossing and get backup if things went south. If you all think we can do it, I'm in."

Chuey summoned his Carbuncle, Marta readied her staff, and Beric donned his knuckles and began loosening up. For my part I readied my shield and slipped my sword out of my belt. I must say though, Carbuncles are something else. Small Aetherial constructs that can handle combat commands. And they're adorable to boot, like a large emerald rabbit with a little red diamond on its forehead. I don't think Chuey would appreciate petting it as part of the pre fight warm up though.

We take our time getting close to the thing, there's nothing to hide us while we make our approach so we have to get as close as we can before it turns and spots us. Is now a bad time to mention that I'm terrified of snakes? No seriously, one bad run in when I was a child and now I can hardly look at pictures of them without feeling uncomfortable. We're close enough now that it won't be able to get away without us rushing it down, and our mages both begin their casts. It's spitting mad as a bolt of energy and lance of fire wash across its back, turning and charging our casters only to meet me and Beric halfway. As Beric circles to flank it I have to deal with blocking the head as it lunges at me, fending it off with my shield and narrowly missing my swing in retaliation. As it inches back a bit it hisses as fists sink into its exposed side, and while it tries to turn and stop the pummeling I aim for its eye with another swing. I graze the flesh of its head and get its attention back on me, only for it to launch itself forward and a top me. Y'know, I don't think it quite hit me how much bulk this thing had behind it until it _hit me_ and I suddenly realized there was nothing I could do to stop it.

For a few panicked moments I'm pinned and doing everything I can to fend off its snapping jaws, fangs ripping into the meat of my arm and shoulder when I fail. As it rears back for another go I slam my shield edge first into its neck, wedging it between us and with a scant few inches between me and its fangs. A numbing sensation washes over me and I feel strength reenter my arm as two more spells rake through its hide. It squeals and rears up in pain, lingering long enough for me to stab my sword into its underbelly, desperation powering it all the way down to the hilt. And then it collapses, covering me in a few hundred pounds of lizard.

I'm desperately trying to move it, with no leverage to speak of as Beric pops into view and gives it a swift kick. I suppose he's make sure it's dead, but that's kind of low on the priority list for me as the air is crushed from my lungs. He grabs a leg and together we roll it over and off me enough that I can scramble back and to my feet.

I'm aware now that my arms are shaking, each breath coming ragged and deep and quick. And I can barely hear Chuey approach me from behind and say "Nice shot!" Over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

The adrenaline high may be calming, but I can feel it. Excitement, pride, and joy swelling red hot in my stomach. Moving up to fill my chest as well. And when Chuey claps a hand on the small of my back in congratulations, I do what comes naturally. I pitch forward and vomit.

"Ah...There there?" Chuey pats my back gently. And at arm's length. Too bad he has the arms of a Lalafell. The best I could manage back was "Wargleblargle." After the last of my stomaches contents leave me, and with a couple retches for good measure, I stand back up. "Feeling alright mate?"

"WOOO!" I threw my hands up in the air and everything! I think this is the most raw enthusiasm I've felt for _anything ever_.

"Yeah, you're alright."

-o-

I've never really taken unnecessary health risks. Bull riding, climbing, even football, I've never really seen the appeal. The closest I'd come to danger was sparring at the boxing gym, y'know, with padded gloves and headgear. So it's comforting to know that now that 'unnecessary health risk' is my job description that it isn't going to stop me. Too much. That being said, I'm not stupid, and it's pretty clear 'pointy end this way' isn't enough combat experience if I want to live very long. So here I am, back at the Gladiators Guild to seek further instruction.

Instead of coming straight to the Guild I instead rested last night, much to the relief of my everything, and spent most of this morning doing a more standard set of leves with a group of my peers. It was honestly pretty boring, just standard monotonous hard labor. But after yesterday I think I kind of welcomed it.

And now, I have the rest of the afternoon to dedicate to the betterment of my body and mind. And even better, Mylla has a free moment and is going to go over my first genuine technique with me! Which is how I find myself planted next to a training dummy, intently watching a demonstration by the Guildmaster herself. She strikes an impressive figure. A tall woman, the black armor with silver trimmings adding to her perceived bulk, but she moves in it with no small amount of grace. The only thing not covered in armor is her head, revealing tanned skin and fair blonde hair falling across her shoulders in small pigtails. She cuts an authoritative, almost regal figure and it's easy to give her my full attention.

"Now, a store of Aether constantly flows into and out of your body. Mages refer to this as 'Mana' to distinguish it. This flow allows us to sense the Aether around us." Yeah, I'd noticed that. I try not to focus on it too much outside of specific instances, kind of messes with my head. I should probably start working on that more, it would be rather stupid to neglect an entire sense. "We'll be getting to how physical fighters make use of their Mana later, but for now we'll be focusing on the Aether that resides in our physical forms. Our bodies themselves are made of Aether, and create an excess amount that it stores within itself. Through training, it's possible to access this energy. Now then, watch closely. I will be demonstrating the **[Fast Blade]**. This may be one of the most basic techniques you learn, but it'll be the foundation you build from."

Mylla has my full attention as she readies her blade and the energies within her. Which is why it's such a surprise when the dummy falls down, shorn in half by her blade. Given the way she's smirking this was entirely intentional and meant to demonstrate just what kind of skill gap there is here, but damn if she doesn't deserve to gloat. I didn't blink and I still missed it. "Now, would you like to try?"

Alright, if that's how she wants to be. "Oh mighty Mylla, will you please lower your skill so that such a lowly plebeian as myself can follow your movements?" I did my utmost to sell my reverence and awe, which is to say it came out as a snarky deadpan with much eye rolling.

"Let no one say flattery won't get you anything." She's smiling, so I suppose I've at least amused her. I watch as she takes up her stance again in front of another dummy. Her blade is poised to strike and the Aether of her body thrums before she launches another set of strikes. This one is still blisteringly fast but at least I can see it, even if I would have no chance of keeping up. After her proper demonstration she motions to a third dummy, and I take my place.

It's pretty hard to describe, using the physically aspected Aether. It was always referred to in game as 'TP' or 'Technical Points'. Dunno what it's actually called. Should probably ask. But as to describing it, it's like...You know how when you're about to use a muscle to do something, you tense it in preparation of how hard and fast you want to exert its force? It's like doing that, and then doing it again on some nebulous second level.

My Aether flows as I'd seen Mylla's, and my blade lashes out. It may have been sloppy as all hell, I nearly lost my balance for a second there, but those two horizontal strikes had definitely been a **[Fast Blade]**. I turn to Mylla and she looks rather stunned. I hadn't been that uncoordinated had I? Or, am I just that good?

"I thought you said you hadn't been taught any techniques?" There's a note of suspicion there. "I haven't."

She's staring intently now. "Then how do you explain that?" Um.

"You explained to me how to do it. Even showed me." I'm pointing out the obvious here, and her face says she tentatively believes me, but there's something else creeping into her expression now. "You mean to tell me that from a single explanation and demonstration, you were able to pick up a technique?" I don't think I like that look.

"Yes?...How long was it supposed to take me?"

"A week. At least." She seems pretty confident in that number. "Most people take that long to even figure out how to access the Aether. Much less direct it into a proper technique." She looks me up and down, and whatever that is in her eyes deepens as an eerie grin crosses her face. I need an adult? "Again." I'm not about to argue with her, so I turn to the training dummy and center myself. My Aether answers the call, **and my sword flashes out** , and I'm a good deal more stable this time to boot. "Loosen your shoulders, make sure you sweep across and back as one fluid motion. Again." We may be at this for awhile.

-o-

We've been at this for awhile. About twenty, maybe thirty minutes where Mylla calls out what I'm doing wrong, I adjust, and let loose another **[Fast Blade]**. The only time we pause is when I need to let my Aether recharge. Is that the right word? Hm. It doesn't take long, but each time it comes back slower, takes less to burn through it. It's no more infinite than my actual stamina, and judging by how I'm drenched in sweat and gulping air like there isn't enough of it, I'm edging towards my limit. "Again. High."

Not that Mylla particularly cares at the moment, she's in coach mode, correcting flaws, helping me find limits, and doling out little bits of encouragement to help me push them. She's taken to drilling me on striking different parts of the training dummy. I lash out, striking high. Now if only my arm would stop burning. "Again. Stab." I lash out again, a single slash followed by a lunging stab. While the MMO's animation showed your character doing two horizontal slashes every single time you used the skill, in the real world it isn't nearly so inflexible.

"Again, Low." So long as you are using the proper portion of Aether, and you will be if you want to fight more than a few minutes as I've learned from a practical demonstration, you can channel it in a number of ways. One fast slash, two strikes together, more if you don't mind the speed dipping. The 'Technique' is how you use the aether to increase the speed of your attack, the attack itself can be more or less any combination of sword strikes. I send out two well honed slashes at the dummy's 'legs'. Or at least I try for 'well honed' but my sword arm is losing strength quickly, and my left hurting. Feels like it's cramping, probably from keeping this shield held up so long. "Again. High-Middle." My Aether sings through my body, striking one blow high and the other at its chest.

And then my left arm seizes up. My sword and shield clatter to the ground and I choke back a hiss as I clench my hand around the offending area. "Ethan?" Mylla sounds concerned and is at my side as I pull back my hand.

...Is that blood?

-o-

"So you've been part of this Guild for three days, and you've been to see me at the end of two of them. Anything to say for yourself?" Miss Bubaba clearly isn't very impressed with me at the moment. She's the Guild's resident healer, a former Conjurer, and a...Let's say 'mature' Lalafell. She's not elderly, but there are a fair few wrinkles and her brown hair, that's currently pulled into a bun, is streaked with gray. I'm currently lain out on a cot while she feeds a healing spell into my arm. "Um. I'm not entirely sure what happened, actually."

She eyes me for a moment, before scoffing. "Well clearly someone's healed you. Not a bad job for a novice's work mind, but you just had to go and aggravate the wound didn't you? Do you not know how healing spells work?" She clearly means this to be sarcastic, but when I shake my head to tell her no her long suffering look turns into more of a concerned frown, stopping the flow of Aether.

"Really?"

"Nope."

"And the person who healed you didn't explain?"

"No. To be fair, I barely remember being healed in the first place. I was a little preoccupied what with being pinned by a giant terror lizard." She gives a sigh and smooths out her robe, the classical white with red trim I might add, before letting the Aether flow again. Huh, that feels different. Warm. Uncomfortably warm actually, I have to keep myself from squirming in her grasp. It's warm more in the sense of a burning muscle.

"Alright, allow me to explain then. The spells Healers use while in combat aren't meant to be more than a quick fix. Our spells replace lost blood and flesh with an Aetherial constructed transplant meant to replace it, which bases itself on how your body is when healthy. Well, there's more to it, but I suppose you don't want to know about the fiddly bits. The problem is if you over stress these by, say, overexerting yourself-" She gives me a pointed look here. "-the body will begin to reject it. So long as your Healer can upkeep it, it poses no immediate problems and will keep you in combat. However, long term you will either need to allow your body time to properly integrate the new Aether, which is more or less along the lines of the actual healing process, time wise. Or a Healer can properly integrate it themselves, but that takes considerably more effort and skill. Did you follow that?"

Somehow I don't think everyone does based on the sharpness of her gaze, but I nod. "So I've basically just done the magical equivalent of busting my stitches?" Her expression softens as she mulls it over, before nodding. "An apt metaphor." We're left in silence and I consider her words for a few moments as a way to take my mind off of my arm. "So, since this feels different from before, are you integrating the Aether?" She nods, and cuts the flow again. "I've helped the process along, but you'll still need to take tomorrow off to let it finish healing properly. After that you can feel free to keep trying to kill yourself."

An entire day? I...Suppose I can afford it. And my decision is definately not being influenced by the stern look she's giving me, not at all. Besides, it would give me time to do something I've been putting off. "Yes Ma'am. Although, can I ask a question before I go?" She nods, and looks at me expectantly. Ah, well...Just man up and ask her. "So I've been training with Mylla all day, and I meant to ask when she was giving her lecture but we went straight into training, and now it's been so long it's kind of awkward…" She sighs, and motions for me to get on with it. I take a moment to clear my throat before getting it over with. "If Mana is the name used to distinguish the Aether that flows inside the body, what about the physical Aether that comes from the body itself?"

She considers me for a moment, I suppose trying to work out if I'm being serious, before speaking. "Tactical Points."

...Um. What? I suppose she must see my confusion, because she goes ahead and explains. "No one is quite sure where the name originates, though the leading theory is that it comes from a translation from the Allagan Empire. The term goes back that far, certainly. The same can be said of Mana, though the 'Points' has been dropped by all but pedantics. Why they originally used this name, we can only guess, but it has stuck. They also go by TP and MP for brevity in combat."

...I've always just called it TP. I thought it stood for Technical Points. Was I just wrong this whole time?...There's a part of me saying that I should always assume I was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.

At this point Miss Bubaba gets up and shoos me out of the room she's claimed for her practice. Right back to Mylla. "Are you alright?" Aw, I think she's genuinely concerned. I-I'm alright Senpai! Please continue to notice me! "A wound from yesterday opened up. I've been informed I'm taking tomorrow off to rest. After that I'm good to work again." Mylla nods, considering my medical advice. "I see, well I had planned to get it out of the way tonight, but I suppose your punishment can wait until the day after next."

Wait what?

I wrack my brain as I try to figure out what she's talking about, and she has a small smirk as she watches me blank. And then it comes back. I'd promised to stay in my combat stance at more or less all times. And what with the excitement yesterday, I'd completely forgotten about it. Her smirk widens as the realization dawns, but she still doesn't say anything. Would she accept an excuse? Almost certainly not. Throw myself at her mercy then? "Yes ma'am." I actually do feel kind of bad, I did make a promise and all. She nods, and pats my shoulder as she walks back into the main hall.

Please stop noticing me Senpai.

-o-

As usual, I rouse alongside the others in the room as everyone is getting dressed and moving outside. I consider trying to roll over and get more sleep, the same argument I have with myself every morning, but as I'm conscious enough to consider whether or not to go back to sleep, I'm also already too awake. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to mess up my internal clock anyway.

So I get up and dress. Well, sans the overly long gloves, I don't need protection today. Actually, I've just realized these things are going to lead to some really weird tan lines. Hm. It wouldn't be a bad idea to get my shirt fixed while I'm out and about actually. Either that or I need to rip both sleeves and commit to the look. Nah, only works if I'm willing to grow a mullet. To a tailor it is then.

Quite a few people are still in the common room 'enjoying' their breakfast, but I pass them by and am out the door into the first rays of sunlight. All the stone buildings absorb heat too well to get the desert chill at night, but after a full night to cool it's pleasant as I go to find myself a proper meal. If I'm going to have a day off I'm going to enjoy it, and I should be making enough now that I can afford to actually feed myself.

-o-

I've found a spot at a small cafe tucked away on the edge of the merchant district. It's basically a hole in the wall and a couple tables on the side of the street. My breakfast has been thoroughly devoured, a sign of how good it was seeing as I usually don't eat much in the morning. Either that or I've missed real food more than I thought. I find myself sipping a cup of coffee and filling in pages of my journal. The sun is warm, there's a light breeze, and we're far enough away that the dull roar of the markets make for good white noise. I take another sip of the fresh brew and savor it. God I'm glad I don't have any dependencies. Well, I've been craving sugar, that's why I went with a sweet breakfast, but imagine if I couldn't function in the morning without caffeine? Or worse yet, where would you get nicotine here?

I work my hand as I inspect my work. I'm doing my best to write down as much information as I can recall from the game and write it down for future reference, and I'm already running into problems. Remembering the old dungeons is...Difficult, considering how long it's been since I actually did them, but I'm making progress.

Thinking through how they appear in the story, I don't think there's much I can actually do to avoid most of them. I mean, I can probably lessen the kill count of that crazy noble lady from Haukke Manor, if not stop it completely, and I seem to remember...Halatali I think? God, all of the early dungeons are just kind of one big mush in my mind. Whichever it was, the reason we went in there was to go after the leader of the Sylphs while they were being chased. But even then, the place is a huge monster den and probably needs to be cleared out regardless. Speaking of monster dens, Aurum Vale comes to mind, and I might just tell them where they can stick it instead of doing that one. It was bad enough in game, what with it being a Morbol den and having puddles of liquid disease. And with two bosses that are Morbols, famous for giving every status effect at the same time with their Bad Breath, and on top of that I distinctly remember the attack 'Vine Probe'. I've seen enough hentai to know where this is going and I am not ok with it. Let someone else tank it.

Honestly most of what I'm doing is writing down the boss fight gimmicks and jotting down theories on how the mechanics might translate to the real world. The real problem here is trying to remember the Hard Mode versions of the dungeons, because quite frankly I don't. I did all of them right in a row and then more or less never did them again. There's still some memories there, but they're accompanied by huge gaping holes. Hopefully I'll be experienced enough by that point that the lack of information won't matter so much.

There's also other things I need to write down, like events in the story and such. I'm not going to bother planning how much of that I'll change until I join the Scions. Then I'll actually have the ability to influence events that I'm not immediately a part of. Ah, trying to destroy the cannon rails for a better story, the dream of Self Inserts everywhere.

...Nothing. No sudden shift in the breeze, no sudden dimming of the crowd, not even a cloud rolling through ominously. Just the same near picturesque scene. Poking the fourth wall isn't getting me anything, but I _know_ it's there. The signs are obvious, the first of which being that I've been suddenly dropped into the world of an MMO I like. As if that wasn't obvious. I'm even acting differently. It's more subtle, but I haven't stumbled over my words, haven't second guessed myself into not saying anything at all, and while working as a cashier helped me out of my shell I've never been terribly outgoing.

There are plenty of ways to hand wave this. The Watsonian reason could be that the Echo is allowing me to communicate completely unhindered. Or that it's giving me low level empathy or some such that is allowing me to read people and therefore open up more easily. Hell it could even be as simple as a confidence boost coming from having a fit body and looking good. But the Doylist in me is saying that these changes are because they read better, are more entertaining, and play more into the power fantasy that is being thrust into becoming the Warrior of Light. I suppose I should be having some sort of existential crisis right now, but I've always been a bit too easy going for that. Even if I'm not my original self, it's still _me_ sitting here.

I'm still getting used to the new body actually. Somehow it doesn't feel strange or out of place until I think about it, and then it hits me just how weird it really is. Like how easy it is for my thighs to not be touching, or how I can actually cross my legs over each other comfortably, and don't even get me started on movement! You move very differently compared to the average person when you're one hundred and fifty pounds overweight, and that was after I'd lost forty pounds and actually had some muscle and a cardiovascular system that wasn't attempting to strangle me. You can run sure, but it's a real effort to build up and slow your momentum, so it's usually easier to walk. And you almost always move methodically to avoid jumping, falls, or slipping, seeing as there's a chance that your ankles could give out on you.

And speaking of momentum, it takes so little effort to start and stop now that I've found myself jogging, even running, just because I can. Actually, something I've been doing quite a bit is getting used to how much rougher I can be with my body now. That really just means that in my experiments with my new movement options I sometimes eat shit, but it sounds better if you phrase it so that you meant for that to happen.

...I've just gone on a tangent to avoid work didn't I. Damnit, I don't even have the internet to distract me anymore, how the hell is this still happening? It's bad enough I still reach for my phone whenever I don't have anything to do, and now I don't ever seem to know what to do with my hands. On the plus side, I've been going to bed on time more consistently without Youtube to distract me. And what with how absolutely exhausted I am at the end of each day, I'm even going to bed in like, ten or twenty minutes instead of an hour. Wait, stop. You're doing it again.

I take another sip of my coffee and try to shore up my determination. I need to get this done today. I doubt I'll have time tomorrow.

...Man, tomorrow is gonna suck.

-o-

Once again, this young man is impressing me. While his ability to pick up new skills is like nothing I've seen before, his success ultimately depends on his willingness to learn and push himself further. Which is, admittedly, part of the reason I was looking forwards to today, to find out what he's made of. It's quite simple, once he got to the Guild I simply asked him to accompany me for a quick jog as a warmup. Judging by the grim look of resignation I got in return, I didn't fool him in the slightest. The question here wasn't if but when he would be unable to continue.

There are always some who can't push themselves, and stop when they first start showing fatigue. Most stop when they overexert themselves and vomit. When I asked him if he wanted to stop, he simply forced himself back to his feet and kept moving. Now he's doing his best to keep pace without stumbling as we approach the Guild again. I believe he's using it as a goal, given how doggedly he's trying to make it there. I've barely worked up a sweat, but he's drenched and panting and nearly collapses against the wall when we approach the door. I allow him a few moments to gulp air, before asking the question. "Are you finished?"

He grits his teeth, grunts a "No" and begins moving again. He makes it a few strides and even picks up a little speed before he nearly topples over, having to use the wall again to steady himself. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes." He slides down the wall to sit against it. "...Kinda." I smile at him, and the heat from the glare he returns warms my heart.

"You've done well. You're free to go, when you feel up to it. Come back tomorrow ready to train properly." He nods, and I walk inside the Guild. It's funny really. The run was really just a test. The soreness he'll have tomorrow is the punishment.

-o-

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Every step hurts. Stupid pride. You could have given me some self esteem and drive for the things I'm passionate about but no. You only rear your ugly head when I'm doing something stupid and bullheaded. Like pushing my body too far. Or eating the rest of the pepper even though I'm already breathing fire. Or the innumerable hours wasted on trying to find a female version of a Pokémon in the wild, instead of the dozen males I passed up.

I grunt with effort as I throw myself at my cot. God I miss video games. I need to find myself a hobby. A good book at least. I would make an effort to take off my boots and clothes but I think I'd rather just sleep in them then put in that amount of effort. You see leg day? This is why nobody likes you.

…

I need to do better than this. The path I'm on is filled with some scary shit. So I suppose it's time for a training montage. Wonder what song would be appropriate? Oh oh! That version of I'll make a man out of you by Jackie Chan!...Man now I miss Youtube. I'm gonna pass out now before I depress myself even more.

-o-

"Today I will be teaching you how Melee fighters use their Mana." I've gotta admit, I'm curious about this one. It's clearly too early to learn **[Flash]** , so what is this lesson? "The 'Spells' if you wish to call them that are almost always very simplistic, but that doesn't mean they aren't highly effective. Having a cast time like the more traditional mages wouldn't work very well in the middle of combat. We instead prepare the spells in advance, essentially sectioning off a portion of our reserves so that they can be cast instantaneously.." Oh! We're learning about Cooldowns!

"The drawback is that while the spell is instant, you will have to wait for that portion of your reserves to renew itself before you will be able to use it again. You'll want to figure out the proper times to use these to get the most out of them. I'll be showing you the most simple first, **[Fight or Flight]**. It strengthens your body, allowing you to fight harder, and do more damage." I'm almost bouncing on my feet. "But first, a word of caution. Do not think you can afford to just allocate all of your Mana to this. There will be other abilities you will learn that draw upon it, and it will only mean more work unlearning bad habits." I nod, she grins, and we get to work.

-o-

It's been three days. And this is all I have to show for it. I lash out again at the training dummy, **a strong overhead slash that screams with my frustration and disappointment**.

"Stop."

I step back. I'm drenched in sweat and lightly panting but I'm perfectly able to continue. The problem is that I shouldn't. Mylla steps next to me and nods at a set of crates. "Calm down. We'll come back when you can start from zero." I want to argue, I really do, but I know it won't get me anywhere. So I nod and take a seat while she goes to do...I dunno. Things.

"Hey, don't worry about it mate" A fellow Gladiator, I haven't caught his name, claps me on the shoulder. "You're already on track to leave us all in the dust. Don't let it get you so down that you've been brought down to normal, eh?" The man makes his way into the pit and I'm left with my thoughts. But that's the problem. Y'see, I copied **[Savage Blade]** just as easily as the other techniques. It's not really any more complicated than **[Fast Blade]** at its base, just focus on strength rather than speed, but it adds a second element to the mix. In game it was called Enmity Generation, and was what you managed as a Tank to keep monsters off the squishy people. This version is surprisingly similar. it's meant to allow you to express yourself through your blade, to give yourself such a sheer intimidating presence that, when mixed with a Tank's fighting style of being right up in your face, your enemy has no choice but to focus on you.

And I copied that part perfectly as well. Or rather, the part that allows you to express your emotions. The problem is, I'm...Not that intimidating. I've never been particularly aggressive either. I guess the bullshit that is the Echo really can only get me so far. And as Mylla told me when we started this, "Allowing any doubt or fear into your blade, no matter how dire the situation, is tantamount to declaring your defeat."

One, two, three, four, five minutes, or at least pretty close I'm not great with time, pass before I get up and take my place in front of the dummy again. "I want you to try something different." DON'T DO THAT! You're walking around in armor, you're not allowed to be sneaky! I don't care that we're surrounded by other people exerting themselves _also_ in armor it's not that noisy here!

"I want you to picture something intimidating in your mind. Tell me when you're ready." Ok. I see where you're going with this. Better than just swinging my sword for another day, definition of insanity and all that. But what to imagine? Um. Something I like. Popular media? Shows? Anime? Huh. That one works. Hell, I always found him more intimidating than his antagonist. The way Araki drew him made him seem just downright vicious, and if you wanted to go for intimidating and violent-

"STRIKE!"

" **ORA!** "

Mylla roars in my ear and my **blade shoots forward, slicing into the wood and promising violence**. Oh god, it's finally happening. My life is becoming a Jojo reference. I'm...I feel kind of awkward, what with stealing Star Platinum's stand cry. No one here would understand why though. "A warcry." Mylla looks over my work and nods. "Not half bad. Now do it again." Whatever you say boss lady. I take my stance and lash out with another [ **Savage Blade]** , finally doing it correctly. But it's not...Quite what it just was.

"Keep using it. Many use War Cries to help focus their attacks."

...In for a penny, in for a pound.

" **Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! ORA!"**

-o-

I watch carefully as Mylla reaches for the reserves of Mana inside her, gathers it in a ball in front of her, and releases it. She does so slowly and meticulously, to allow me to observe before I'm blinded. Even knowing it was coming and shutting my eyes before it went off, I'm trying to blink away spots.

"This is another technique that will draw upon your Mana. **[Flash]** is an incredibly simple spell. It takes almost no time to cast, but instead of sectioning off a part of your reserves, you will be casting it directly from them. When done properly it will blind your opponent, both visually and through their ability to sense Aether. It also carries intent much like **[Savage Blade]**. Although, don't be disappointed when it doesn't come across as powerfully, it is more difficult to impart your emotions upon Mana than Tactical Points. It also works over an area, so we will also be learning how to make sure you don't blind your team mates." She explains as she watches me go through the steps myself, overseeing as I copy her. The orb hangs in the air for a scant second, before bursting.

"MY EYES!"

"...Or yourself."

-o-

Author's Notes

So reviewers have brought up the unclear shifting of tenses and perspectives in my first chapter. As it turns out, I should have taken a look at the story itself when it posted, because underscores don't actually show up when you translate them to the document system. Wonderful. I've now edited that, thank you to Weasel for suggesting the -o-. As for the shifting of tenses I'll likely come back and edit it when I drum up the enthusiasm, but right now I want to focus on moving forward. Particularly because that won't be as much of a problem as we move on. The reason I did it that way in the first place was to work around the utter dryness that is the intro cutscene, tutorial, and the quests that are basically chores.

Also, glad to see the idea of introducing the SI through other characters eyes was appreciated. I was trying to figure out something interesting to do for the tutorial and read a few fics in the category until I stumbled upon Conversations With the Warrior of Light by Meinos Kaen and was inspired by it. I don't think I could tell a whole story like that, although I did genuinely consider it for a few moments, but I'm definitely going to sneak those in now and then.

For a proper idea of what that particular 'Woo' sounded like, please go to Youtube and look up 'Attack of the Ascot Man' by Tomandre. It's a scene from the channels A Slap On Titan abridged series, which you should also watch, because it's great.

This chapter also has a lot of exposition on how to make MMO mechanics make sense, which was actually pretty fun to try and translate. Of particular note is the nerf to healing, which is the only way I can find to make it make sense, seeing as there are particular cutscenes where healers are knelt over the wounded and not just instantly fixing them. Which makes no sense when you can take a Primals ultimate to the face and be healed through that just fine. I'm hoping this strikes a sort of middle ground.

Go watch the Fandom Flux Podcast. They do cool things like writing advice, fanfiction recommendations, reviewing anime picked at random, and they stream every Thursday. It's a bunch of fun and you'll likely see me in the comments.


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